


Cosmetology

by TransLunar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, MODEL SHIRO, Model Keith (Voltron), because hell yes, drag queen Lance, model allura, photographer pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8628484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransLunar/pseuds/TransLunar
Summary: If there's anything Lance loves more than makeup, it's a perfect face to put it on.





	

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith falls into a trap.

If there was anything Lance loved more than makeup, it was a perfect face to put it on. Of course, his own was the best example of such a face. But doing his own makeup wouldn’t put bread on the table, so he did the only logical thing to do: get a degree in cosmetology. He still had to do part-time jobs at fast food restaurants and grocery stores to get himself through school and keep up with his ever-growing collection of makeup and tools, but he made sure to put out at least one YouTube video every week. He considered it his portfolio.

While in school, he was encouraged to use other models in his videos, to show he could adapt to faces other than his own. So he began to design looks for his sisters for every event they had, be it graduation, a date, or even a football game (his youngest sister was a cheerleader). He became pretty popular among the cheerleading team in no time, and their coach actually started to pay him to do the team’s makeup before every game. It wasn’t much but it could be put on his resumé.

His life was changed the day he turned twenty-one. Not because he could legally drink (though that was a plus), but because Hunk decided to take him to a local gay bar on drag night. Aside from getting drunk off his ass, motorboated by a queen, and waking up with a killer hangover, Lance felt inspired. As soon as his head wasn’t killing him when he turned the lights on, he began designing drag makeup for himself. He borrowed a cheap wig from his friend, Allura (who was also in cosmetology at his school, though two years ahead of him and about to graduate), and practiced until he knew without a doubt it was what he wanted to do with his life while he still could.

By the age of twenty-five, Lance had become quite the popular drag queen in his hometown and he absolutely loved it. But it wasn’t really something that could support him financially, so he found himself working for a fashion magazine as a makeup artist. He enjoyed that almost as much. It was certainly easier than going full drag, but he got to meet all kinds of people and work with others on his team.

After about five months at the magazine, his team consisted of Hunk, who had been his roommate in college, as the costume coordinator. Basically it was a fancy term for fashion designer slash outfit fitter… person. Seamstress. Seamster? Hunk had hand-made all of Lance’s drag wardrobe from scratch, often hand-sewing on sequins because sequin fabric looked “cheap” and “plastic”. Lance didn’t argue that sequins themselves were plastic. Not when Hunk had sharp objects within reach.

Then there was Pidge, the nerdy photographer that Lance’s gigs always seemed to end up with. None of them knew Pidge’s real name, and no one dared ask. She was the type to give really ambiguous instructions to the models who just did their best to not look as confused as they really were. She was brilliant though. She liked interesting and impactful angles and compositions and it honestly fit so well with Hunk’s coordinations and Lance’s makeup designs. Because even Lance knew that his makeup would look like shit in certain lighting and angles. Pidge was an expert at intuitively knowing what the finished photo needed to look like.

Then there were the models. Most of the time they were quiet and half asleep when he was doing their makeup and most of them never spoke a word to him. He was okay with that. He liked to talk, and most of the models let him ramble about random shit while he worked. But Keith. Keith was Lance’s favorite model. His face was basically perfect, sometimes it felt like a shame to cover it with makeup. But then he would see the photos and remember he was enhancing what was already perfect into even better than perfect. Keith had this cute habit of making noncommittal noises in response to Lance’s ramblings. Lance figured it was just an automatic response, but he found it cute nonetheless, often watching for Keith’s Adam's Apple to move with the sound or for the little dart of a pink tongue to wet his lips out of habit.

And Lance was a  _ flirt. _ But it was obvious that Keith didn’t understand most of his attempts to woo him. That or he just didn’t care. But Lance knew that couldn’t be the case. Keith always reacted negatively to his bad jokes, so surely he would react the same to a bad innuendo if he knew what it meant. Not even Pidge and Hunk’s sleuthing could give him an answer about Keith’s sexual attractions. Then Lance had to wonder if Keith just wasn’t attracted to anyone at all.

That idea didn’t last long. Keith did a shoot with another model, Shiro, once. It was obvious with the way Keith kept staring at Shiro’s jawline and his pecs. Hell, even Lance was staring. So Keith was definitely interested in guys, just specific ones. Lance didn’t know why Keith seemed so impervious to his attempts to flirt. But the more he watched Keith’s interactions with Shiro, and even a few other male models, the more he noticed that Keith just watched. It wasn’t anything the other guys were  _ doing _ or even saying.

So Lance began to work harder on his own makeup, accentuating his jawline and cheekbones with finesse, but not enough to really draw public attention to it. Keith got close-up views, after all, so Lance only needed subtle. When that didn’t work, Lance started adding tiny elements to his makeup. A little highlight sheen here, a little eyeliner there. Then the day he added a tinge of peach lip gloss, Lance saw Keith’s eyes linger on his lips often, and he smirked a little to himself.

Since then, he went through every gloss and lipstick he owned (within reason, still not going very vibrant or dark) to see which ones drew Keith’s attention the most. Of course, Lance never mentioned it because he didn’t want Keith to stop looking. Keith seemed a bit flighty, like he could be easily scared off, which meant his staring was entirely unintentional. Honestly it was the scented ones that had Keith blatantly staring, and Lance added that to the list of “things that made Keith Kogane adorable”. Keith’s senses must be very well connected if he was subconsciously able to determine the source of the scents in the air around him.

After a couple months of experimenting in this way, an opportunity arose to play with is favorite model. Keith must have been tired, because he had his earbuds in and eyes closed when Hunk sauntered in and announced the day’s shoot had been cancelled because Pidge was sick and they could all go home. Hunk left and Keith made no move to get up. In fact, when Lance hadn’t done much of anything for a while, he opened an eye and raised a brow in question. Lance had an epiphany and waved Keith to go back to his music as he grabbed the foundation.

As Keith returned to his tunes, Lance got to work on a rather fantastic drag design. It was subtle but oh so gorgeous. He tried to be subtle with the eyeliner and work on it when Keith’s eyes were still closed to not give away what he was doing, though the slight crease between Keith’s brows were probably an indication that he was beginning to suspect.

“What’s the concept again?”

Lance almost jumped and destroyed his beautiful creation at the voice. Keith had tugged one of the pieces of plastic from his ear, though he dutifully kept his eyes closed since Lance had been working there and he knew better than to risk a poke in the eye. Lance just made a noncommittal sound and tried to finish the second eye while he still could. He was getting nervous. He hadn’t thought about Keith’s reaction.

When Keith opened his eyes to look to Lance for an answer, Lance had to remind himself to breathe. Keith had beautiful eyes and they looked absolutely exquisite with eyeliner. Except he was beginning to frown, suspicion reaching full force.

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” Lance began as Keith made to swivel the chair to the mirror, but Lance grabbed the armrests and kept him away. “Please don’t get mad.”

“What did you  _ do _ ?”

“I--”

Keith gave a rather harsh shove against the floor with his feet, swinging the chair out of Lance’s grasp as he finally faced himself in the mirror. There was silence where Keith took in the full meaning of what he was seeing and Lance debated running while he still could. Though Keith could probably catch him. He seemed fast.

“The shoot was cancelled, but you didn’t hear, and I’ve really wanted to try some drag looks on you and I’m sorry, I should have asked you first,  _ please don’t kill me. _ ” The last bit was said as Keith stood and turned to face him.

“Yeah, you  _ should _ have asked me first,” Keith said, obviously unhappy.

“Your face is so perfect though,” Lance argued. “I couldn’t help myself.” Keith raised an eyebrow and Lance couldn’t be sure if Keith was blushing through all that foundation, but he suspected.

“You do this kind of thing often, then?” He had turned back to the mirror, actually turning his head and looking at all the angles.

“Uh--yeah, I run a YouTube channel and I do drag once a week at a bar.” He started to play with Keith’s hair a bit, re-positioning his bangs. Keith frowned, probably not that comfortable seeing himself like this. Because damn it, he was pretty. He could totally pass for a woman if it weren’t for his Adam’s Apple and wide shoulders.

“This is really weird.”

“Yeah, well,  _ I’m _ really weird,” Lance said with a chuckle. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

“I don’t really  _ hate _ anyone,” Keith said. “Plus, you’re good at what you do; I can’t deny that.” It was Lance’s turn to blush. They were actually having a real conversation. Finally, Keith put a hand on Lance’s to stop him from playing with his hair, gently pulling it away before dropping it. “Can you take this off now? There’s not really a point to staying here, right?”

“Will you let me take a picture? For my portfolio,” Lance asked. Keith actually sighed and slumped back in the chair.

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“Then come see one of my drag shows to make up for leaving me without a reminder of this beautiful masterpiece,” he gestured to Keith’s face.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll leave it on you and you can go home like this and try to wash off all that waterproof eyeliner without proper removal tools.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Is it a threat if you look so gorgeous? I did you a favor, honestly. You should thank me.”

“If I agree to go to one of your drag shows, will you take this shit off my face right now?”

And that’s how Keith ended up front and center at a gay bar, nervous as hell because it was dark, it was loud, and it was crowded. He had no idea what he was in for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is un-beta'd so please do point out typos to me and I'll do my best to fix them. Enjoy. :)


End file.
